“Strange,” Briggs remarked, thoughtfully. Then he turned to Michael. “Did he say that anyone was with him?”
Michael shook his head. “He only said he’d wait at the hotel till he heard from yer, sir.”
Briggs stood for a moment thinking. Then he said, with two fingers on his lips: “You tell Sam to drive down right off and bring Mr. West up here. Tell him to bring Mr. West’s luggage, too, and ask him to say to Mr. West that there’s a room all ready for him, as usual. This is a funny time for him to stand on ceremony with me.”
Michael started to go out; then turned back. “I suppose yer didn’t know Miss Fanny came last night, sir.”
“I thought she wasn’t coming till next week.”
“She arrived last night, sir, at nine o’clock. She sat up for yer, sir, till she fell asleep in the chair, and Mrs. Briggs made her go to bed.”
“Good girl,” said Briggs. “I suppose she hasn’t come down yet.”
“No, sir.”
A half-hour later Briggs heard the rustle of skirts outside the study door. Then the door opened softly. He went on busily writing. Light steps crossed to the chair behind him.
“Ahem!”